


crushing me (this is unbecoming)

by ventilation



Category: Justice League vs. Teen Titans (2016), Reign of the Supermen (2019), Teen Titans - All Media Types, Teen Titans: The Judas Contract (2017)
Genre: F/M, Jealous Raven, Not Beta Read, Onesided Yearning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:48:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29225715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ventilation/pseuds/ventilation
Summary: raven had watched him fall in love every time (with every one, with anyone, but never ever her — not that she cares)
Relationships: Kon-El | Conner Kent & Raven, Kon-El | Conner Kent/Raven
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> based on grassfour's [konrae date? photoset](https://grassfour.tumblr.com/post/624161501633249280/i-dont-know-this-is-a-date-or-what-really-like)

Raven would like to think of herself as someone who’s better than her emotions, and her finger taps on her bedside table as she stares at the offending object strapped to the side of her bag. It’s small and cute, and it makes her heart twist and her stomach drop when the dawning realisation comes flooding her mind that she  _ cannot, _ absolutely  _ will not _ throw it away.

She bites the insides of her cheeks to stop the frustrated groan from becoming anymore than a tiny rumble in the back of her throat. She can’t (will not) throw it away, and  _ dear Azar, _ why did the thought even cross her mind again?

It’s a gift handed over to her with nothing but good intentions (and perhaps some bit of irony and narcissism), and here she is, wanting nothing more but to rip it off its strap and throw it to the nearest bin with as much poison and vitriol as she could muster. And, for  _ what reason? _

For very stupid and very selfish reasons. She grimaces.

“Hey, Rae!” Short knocks on her door rouse her from her thoughts, and  _ of course, _ it just has to be him. Her heart rises to her throat painfully, and she swallows a shuddering breath when her lightbulb fizzes and pops above her. “Kori said we’re leaving in five.”

A sound that doesn’t seem human escapes her as she shuffles up and grabs her bag on the table, slinging it over her shoulder. Her door slides automatically to the side as she exits her room, and she breathes out, “hey,” when she sees him hovering in front of her bedroom door.

“Hey,” he greets back, his smile lazy on his face. “Those clothes look good on you!”

_ You too, _ she wants to say, but she bites down the want and walks past him with a nod. He trails behind her, laughing almost, and her face burns. She waves it off.

And, then his laughter fades, and he becomes quiet. Conner is  _ never _ quiet (well, not quiet  _ suddenly _ ), and she glances back at him, only to find him staring straight at her.

“What is it?” she asks self-consciously, leaning back from his gaze.

“Your hair,” he points, and  _ oh, _ maybe she shouldn’t have acted on the impulsive want of tying it into a short ponytail. It  _ had _ been a while since she had last cut her hair, not because she wanted to, but just out of genuine forgetfulness.

(These past few months had been a nonstop routine of fighting villains. She never really knew  _ why _ they kept coming almost everyday, but Raven’s just glad that whatever that period of time had been, has finally ended.)

Her hand moves to tug the ribbon off, but he tells her, “it’s pretty,” and she just lets her fingers hover awkwardly over her hair, before letting her arm fall back to her side.

His voice is friendly and his posture is casual, so she really shouldn’t put his words to heart. It’s just another simple complement.  _ Just _ a simple complement, so it  _ really  _ should not have been enough to make her blood thrum in her veins and her stomach flutter.

But,  _ of course, _ it does, and she sputters a “thank you” or something to that effect as she tries to fight the burning heat underneath her skin.

Oh,  _ Azar, _ how did she end up like this again? She’s supposed to be the cool and collected one of the group, emotions all expertly reigned in inside her. She’s  _ Raven, _ for fuck’s sake!

Her emotions tug and pull at her mind, and she clenches and unclenches her fists. Perhaps, she should have meditated longer— _ no, _ maybe she should just stay home. Throw in the “I’m not feeling well” excuse, and pretend she’s got a fever or something. Kori would understand.  _ They  _ would understand.

Yeah, she could do that, and she does—

“You excited for the amusement park?”

— Or, at least, was about to.  _ Damn. _

She couldn’t tell him she’s not going, especially when he’s staring at her with the wonderment and eagerness of a ten year old kid. She doesn’t want that glimmer in his eyes to go away, and  _ damn it, _ she can’t feign sickness now.

“Well, it’s not as exciting as trying to dodge Blackfire’s bolts,” the amused look he gives her makes her insides twist, and she looks away, swallowing. “... Yeah. Just a little bit though.”

His laughter reminds her of the very bad Santa Clause actors she’d sometimes see in the malls or on the street during the holidays. It’s all sorts of wrong and awkward, and though she wants to give a laugh of her own, she’s still Raven, and Raven only allows herself to quirk a smile at his little  _ ho ho ho _ ’s.

“In that case, I’ll just have to make this a lot more exciting than fighting Kori’s sister,” he says, and  _ this isn’t fair. _ Raven bites the insides of her cheeks.

“I’m counting on that.”

Oh, Azar, please grant her strength.


	2. Chapter 2

They were something she could call friendly — something stuck in the in between of two somethings; not quite close friends, but not quite distant either — but, he had been in her space more often than anyone she’s ever known had ever been, lingering until she would shoo him off and he’d smile at her when leaving, that it had gotten to the point that it had become a normal in her routine. To expect him hovering around her.

_ Friendly. _

She doesn’t really know when it had begun, but she knows it had started out small: a tiny prickle at the back of her head that itches whenever he’s near. She remembers coming to a realisation that something’s  _ there _ one day, and it had gone something like this:

His elbow on her shoulder and his head on hers. The warmth of his skin is comforting, but there’s something underneath the strong lemon detergent that had her wrinkling her nose in thought. It’s … tantalising, sharp and minty? Is that aftershave—

It had gone something like this: a miscalculation on her part as she tries to pin down what it is that is different about him, and his face mere inches apart from hers when she realises. His breath is warm on her cheek as he rambles on about something or the other, ignorant of their close proximity and unaware of the way her cheeks are quickly becoming flush red.

It had gone something like this: her heart hammering inside her chest, a sudden prickling underneath her skin, and a quiet thought, “I could just kiss him.” But, that’s absurd, and she shoves that thought away at the same time she pushes him off her.

Like always — like  _ routine, _ and she’d gone on to her almost everyday life.

Or, so she had thought.

The prickle hadn’t gone away. It had been tiny enough and almost completely unassuming that she hadn’t really thought of looking into it—which was stupid of her, she knows now, especially since there had been a strange sense of foreboding inside trying to reach her after that particular exchange.

Perhaps it could be likened to a faucet twisted open just enough for water to trickle down in droplets, filling in a glass placed under it slowly. _Quietly,_ as it grows with each drop — with each sideways glance, with each punch and dodge in combat training, with each conversation of varying degrees of depth — with each laughter as he hovers and with each gentle smile as she pushes him away — until water spills over and she’s not sure what to do with a glass so full one would think it would crack from the weight.

_ God, _ she should’ve looked into it, and she curses in her mind as she settles into the carseat, trying not to look at the scene in front of her. Her hands fiddle with the strap of her bag, fingers tracing lines over the soft plush of the keychain before sighing.

This isn’t good at all, and she knows it wouldn’t take long before her resolve  _ not to look _ breaks.

This is so  _ stupid,  _ and Raven directs her eyes to the back of his head, and she feels herself flush. This is so  _ so stupid— _

The smile on his face is bright and blinding as he talks almost animatedly, emotions bouncing so strongly off him, and she feels something bubbly and light hit her when Donna laughs at his joke. Ah, right,  _ attraction. _

Raven releases another sigh.

How she ever developed feelings for him is beyond her, and she winces when something inside her feels like it’s been punched. Beside her, Jaime asks if she’s okay, and Raven nods her head. “It’s nothing,” she tells him, and it’s true.

Well, sort of.

This is nothing —  _ should be _ nothing, because this isn’t the first time she’s seen him fall in love.

Another punch, but this time she had been prepared for the ache, and she manages to steel her nerves before the need to flinch overwhelms her.

But, really though, what did she expect?

She turns to look out the window instead.


	3. Chapter 3

She may have feelings for him, but that doesn’t mean she likes him- _ likes him _ , because it’s not in her nature to  _ like _ anyone in that way. That’s something she had thrust into Nevermore somewhere years ago, and that’s something she doesn’t want back.

She doesn’t like him (they’re just  _ friendly, _ after all), and her staring at his profile as he bounces excitedly on the balls of his feet as they wait up the queue is normal and not at all stemmed by the fact that she’s almost hyper-aware of his actions. Because, she doesn’t like him.  _ At all. _

Raven tucks her hair behind her ear.  _ Damn it, _ she lies better than this, and she taps her foot in annoyance. Not even a child would believe her if she told them, and  _ ugh. _ Stupid Conner, stupid emotions, stupid prickly feeling!

_ God, _ even her  _ thoughts _ don’t sound like her.

“Raven, are you alright?” Damian asks her, and she inhales slowly. Of course, Damian would notice, and she raises an eyebrow at his inquiry, feigning calmness.

“I think you should be asking Garfied that,” she points with a finger at Gar, who’s currently bent over with a hand over his mouth, his face a lot greener than usual. Well, they did warn him not to consume too much food before the spinning teacup, but typical Gar, she guesses.

Damian stays silent for a while, frowning. The creases in between his eyebrows go away soon though, his face recovering its blank expression. “Well, he is an idiot.” The corners of her mouth quirk in response to his blunt statement, but his following words make her growing smile turn into a grimace, “You don’t look so well, either.”

She blows away a stray strand of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes, gathering words in her mind to answer, but before she can even reply, the group in front of them has finally moved forward. Raven shrugs instead as they follow suit, marching closer to the gates of their next ride. “It’s probably just the lighting.”

An eyebrow is raised in reply, but Damian doesn’t push any further than that, and he goes back to studying the map of the theme park, his face bordering between disinterest and interest.

The alarm above them rings once, before the sound of machinery starts over and another round of screams and shrieks resound in the air. Well, to be fair, that roller coaster ride does seem terrifying despite just being a second or two short of two minutes, especially with all those ridiculous loops and heights. She looks at the towering ride, and a twinge of discomfort strikes her insides at the thought of her in the confined seats.

It’s not fear or anything, because, one: she’s  _ Raven, _ and two: Raven  _ flies. _ It’s more so having to do with the flaring emotions around her that has her heart start to thump wildly and her head foggy with anticipation, and she sucks in a breath through clenched teeth in hopes that it could at least alleviate some of the effects of this onslaught on her emotional barriers.

Just a normal and regular day for an empath with low emotional defenses, she supposes, and perhaps she could go with Garfield in the pretense of feeling bad for him while taking some time to gather herself. Raven breathes.

But, well, she wouldn’t be Raven if she lets such a simple thing like a hundred or so people high off endorphins and cortisol affect her so much that she’d back out now, would she? And,  _ no, _ it’s not because she couldn’t gather her courage to leave when she’d already told Conner she’s excited. Besides, Gar looks like he’s recovering well now — at least, well enough to terrorise the theme park’s mascot with his antics.

She chuckles at the sight of Kori fretting over Garfield, profusely apologising to the man currently donning a suit that looks like a crossbreed between a pig and horse (yeah,  _ nope, _ she will  _ not _ further analyse the bizarre mascot of this rather popular theme park), and Dick at the side looking like a human hatstand with all of their jackets and bags slung over him, videotaping all of it in his phone. It’s so surreal to think that just the day before all of them were drowning in Plasmus goo — she shivers at the memory of slime, gagging — while a supposed doomsday device is ticking somewhere in the city.

Something claws at her mind, scratching as she dwells longer at the memories of the past month. Crime rate really  _ had _ shot up in Jump that even Garfield had noticed, voicing his complaint after the second week. “I’m burnt out!” he had shouted, or at least something of the like, and, well, they couldn’t really argue with him. A few hours of sleep and the occasional small window of reprieve in between alarms can only do so much for their overall well-being, and if it hadn’t been for the Justice League picking up on their problem, they would have died from overworking.

She’s not sure if she’s kidding or not.

Still, the unusual increase is interesting. She wonders if — the line moves again, and she’s forced to put her curiosity aside. Fun,  _ right,  _ they’re here for fun and recreation. Thinking about Jump City would be the  _ exact opposite _ of what this whole excursion is supposed to be. And, besides, it’s the Justice League’s problem now.

Raven mentally takes note of buying souvenirs for Barry and Vic as her thanks for volunteering to fill in the Titan work, but that train of thought stops abruptly when she feels another bout of  _ attraction _ brush against her —

“Hey, R—”

“Ah! You look so much like Superboy.”

Oh,  _ Azar. _

“Really? My folks say I look more like Batman though,” Conner jokes, and the group in the queue in front of them laughs, the volume increasing when he does his best  _ (worst) _ Batman impression. 

“Really? Actually, now that I look at the rest of your friends, you all look like the T—”

“No, ah, it’s probably just — just our cosplay? Yes.”

Raven doesn’t even think about commenting on his weak coverup (because  _ cosplay,  _ that’s your best lie?), but she does silently applaud him for thinking of projecting a body language that’s not very Superboy-like. Even  _ if _ the only thing his restless arms and high set shoulders has done is add more suspicion.

Her fingers tap against her thigh as she hums, the sound coming out strangled when she realises how much fun Conner is having just by conversing with them. “... Must be nice.”

There’s a second where she considers eavesdropping on their conversation, but she drops the thought, taking a step back. It’s not her business anyway, and Raven looks away, ears growing warm in shame at the idea of being so controlled by her jealousy that she had even  _ deliberated _ the action. Did she not study under the monks of Azarath for years — to have her emotions wrapped and restrained and cast away somewhere unreachable for this  _ exact same reason? _

Another hit of attraction slams against her already thin emotional defenses, and she squeezes her eyes shut and chants her mantra underneath her breath. Really, he doesn’t even give her a chance to breathe from her own thoughts and emotions, huh?  _ Fuck. _

She doesn’t blame Conner for falling in love easily — it’s normal for a person their age after all to be attached to someone so quickly (though in his case, it’s somewhat bordering unnatural), but when she opens her eyes after settling down the bubbling emotions, she couldn’t help but feel like blaming him for what might happen if they don’t stop taking glances at her, laughing. They’re probably harmless, resulting from something Conner might have told them as support to his story.

Still, it doesn’t make it any less annoying.

When the roller coaster finishes its round and arrives back in its starting point, Raven has never been more happy in her life. Pointedly, she doesn’t look at Conner when they are ushered through the gates. Instead, she forces herself to look at the small, unimpressive details on the train — which aren’t really a lot. It’s long with two seats each row, painted this dark red colour that reminds her of dried blood, and, well, that’s it. Just a regular roller coaster.

Patiently, she waits for the passengers to exit on to the opposite platform, and Raven mulls over her choices of seating. In the end, she decides on the seat behind Jaime’s (front seats are taken, back seats are … not a place she wants to be in), and she moves to the farthest chair in case anyone wants to have the space on the same row.

Someone taps her shoulder, and when she looks up when she’s finally settled in, Raven hiccups. Ah, there it is,  _ Eight Wonder of the World: _ his goddamn bright smile. Why is Conner suddenly so shiny — or, is that just her filter? Whatever the case, it’s not something she can think about now as he points at the empty spot beside hers and asks, “Mind if I sit next to you?”

Raven raises an eyebrow, shrugging, “Knock yourself out.” (It’s only through sheer pride that she does not ask why he’d chosen to sit next to her rather than his  _ new friends.) _

For a moment, as he busies himself with clambering onto the car and putting on the safety devices, she’s … strangely  _ at peace. _ Sure, she can still feel the anxiety and fear of everyone else intermingling with the remnants of her own jealousy, but her heartbeat is a steady thrum inside her chest, beating almost in sync with the roller coaster staff’s voice as they drone about the ride’s rules. Even when the red light above them starts blinking ones the reminders are finished being read out, counting down to the last few seconds they have before it starts and — and —

It all rushes at her when the last person is finally seated and the arm bars trap them in. Didn’t they say there’s always a calm before the storm?  _ Shit,  _ the wave of terror and fear is overwhelming.  _ Shit. _

Azar, she feels like throwing up, and damn it, she really should have to stop overestimating herself in such a state. She’s  _ so stupid. _

“You okay?” Conner asks, hands wringing a part of his shirt as he looks at her, left foot bobbing up and down.

“I’m fine,” she hisses, and  _ damn it, _ she wants to bang her head on something at the slip. Clearing her throat with a cough, hoping that that’s enough to help her regain some kind of composure, Raven tries again, smiling, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

There’s another pull and tug as the alarm blares, the loud noise jarringly loud as the ride starts its ascend to the first drop, and the attempted smile becomes a grimace. Raven tries to control her breathing to something she’s used to, her fingers curled tight against the lap bar, and the cold metal bar helps with grounding herself to a point where she’s certain she wouldn’t cause any accidents during the whole ride.

But, then his hand is on hers, clammy and trembling, and something in her brain fizzes. Her breath labours again, the thought:  _ he’s trying to kill us all, isn’t he, _ running rampant in her mind. It’s wrong though — the thought. Raven chants her mantra quietly before making up her mind.

Slowly, with her neck feeling as though it's creaking with every action like some kind of a comedic scene from a cartoon, she turns to look at him.

She’s never realised how long his eyelashes until now, eyes screwed shut and his lips pursed—

_ Oh. _

“Wait, Conner, are you scared—”

The roller coaster plummets down, and the scream that he lets out is so unlike him that she couldn’t help but laugh, her heart ramming through her chest.


End file.
